Died In Honor
by bonniebonbon
Summary: "For once in my life, I know why I wear red and gold." Peter Pettigrew did many horrible deeds in his lifetime, all of them out of fear. He knew nothing could right his wrongs, but dying in honour-that must count for something, right? One Shot, written for multiple competitions. Please R&R!


"Wormtail, come here." Peter Pettigrew took a small step towards Lord Voldemort. "Closer, closer…" The rather short small-eyed man took another step, this one a little larger than the first.

"Peter…Lord Voldemort-" Peter twitched at the mention of The Dark Lord's name, "-has given you the great honor of bringing him back to life." Voldemort continued. "Do not fail me, for the consequences will not be good.

Peter nodded quickly. "Yes, your lord! I will not fail you!" Peter was very afraid of getting punished. He knew his master was merciless, despite what he said.

"Good…very good. Go!" Peter transfigured into a rat and scurried away into a small hole in the wall. He lay in his makeshift bed, and although he did not get any sleep for three days, he could not fall asleep.

So he daydreamed. He always did that, it was his favorite thing to do. The dark lord often caught him daydreaming, though, and Peter always got punished. But now, he could lie in his bed and daydream all he wanted for his master no longer required his services for the day.

His daydreams were often at Hogwarts, but always about him, James, Sirius and Remus-the marauders. He loved his daydreams. He missed his friends.

It wasn't only because of that, though. Peter loved his daydreams because the Peter in his dreams was brave. Much braver than the real one.

Dream-Peter wasn't afraid to confess to the girl he liked. He could sing in front of people and wouldn't care if they thought he was mental. He could laugh at his mistakes-just like all of his friends.

But most importantly…

Dream Peter stood up against Voldemort. Even when he said that he'd kill him, he didn't betray his friends. He died in honor.

Often, Peter wished he was like him. But although Peter and the Peter in his dreams had the same name, same friends, same family…

They were completely different.

And Peter hated that.

"Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son." Peter took a bone from Tom Riddle Sr.'s grave and dropped it into the cauldron.

"F-flesh of the servant, willingly given, y-you will revive your master." Peter reluctantly sliced his hand off and screamed in agony.

_The marauders wouldn't do this. Peter…the one in his dreams…he wouldn't do this. _

"B-blood of the e-enemy, forcefully t-taken…" Peter hesitated, his knife in his left hand, his only hand. He looked at the enemy, at Harry. This young, fourteen year old boy.

_He looked just like his father._

Peter changed direction and aimed for the strong ropes binding Harry instead of the crook of his arm, where he originally was going to draw blood, for that would be the last ingredient for the potion.

Lord Voldemort was one drop of blood away from rebirth.

"Run, boy, run. May this act of sacrifice repay all the horrible things I have done."

"The things you have done are unforgivable! My dad would've died rather than betray his friends! They all would've!"

"I know." Peter looked at the ground in shame. His entire life was made up of betrayal, pain and sins. It was about time to end this nightmare.

In honor. Not in fear.

Not this time.

"Go, Harry, before it's too-"

"Late?" Lord Voldemort managed to tip the cauldron over and now, sprawled on the ground, he lay. He dragged himself to his wand, which also laid on the ground a few steps away, and grabbed it.

"Harry, watch out-"

"AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Maybe this cannot pay for all the horrible things I've done.

But I hope that you're looking down at me, way, way down, and feeling proud; at least just a little bit. I've acted like a Gryffindor-for once in my life, I know why I wore red and gold rather than yellow and black or green and silver.

For once, I realized that the Peter in my dreams and I…

We're the same person.

James…your son. He reminded me so much of you.

He will undoubtedly give me more credit than I deserve. Even though I saved his life, took the killing curse for him-

I still did many, many horrible things out of fear.

But I least, at _least, _I died in honor.

* * *

Written for the following competitions…

-The Greenhouses Competition: Oregano

-The Diagon Alley Challenge: Florean Fortesque's Ice Cream Parlour

-The Gemstone Challenge/Competition: Agate


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